Fifty Shades of Angst
by WolfWinks
Summary: As the title states, fifty different one-shots all focusing on the angst. Rated T for now but that may change. [1] Hermione/Parvati [2] Bill/ Charlie (brotherly) [3] What if you never find her? [4] Neville watches Harry kiss another [5] Sirius helps Regulus [6] Dorea Potter must make a decision [7] Seamus/Theo a fight and a realisation [8] George after the war
1. HermioneParvati

**Title:** Empty  
 **Summary:** Hermione waits for the tears which are yet to come. **  
Pairing/Characters:** Hermione/Parvati **  
Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : N/A **  
Notes:** N/A

* * *

She refused to move as she looked around the near empty room. The room was too quiet, too depressing, too dead. The crimson walls, which once seemed full of life, only reminded her of the blood that was shed. The couches looked bare without bodies occupying them. There was a half empty, abandoned box of chocolates on a nearby table. Chocolates were scattered around the box and some were smashed into the carpet. Carpet that was once clean but now stained brown. There was a lack of anything, it was all so empty.

Hermione knew, logically, that not everyone was dead. Ron was still alive, as was Harry. Fred wasn't though, and George may be breathing but he wasn't really here. Colin was gone, as was Lavender. So many gone, the room just felt wrong

Spying a couch near the empty fire, Hermione made her way over there to sit. It was the first time she sat, too much to do. The final battle ended only hours ago and everyone was just now being given a chance to rest. She knew that Harry would be somewhere private and, Hermione could guess, he found himself an abandoned classroom, maybe up in the astronomy tower. Ron was with his family, grieving and Neville was most likely in the room of requirement with many of the other surviving students.

The Gryffindor tower didn't feel like home anymore for anyone. For those who were at the school this year, it was a place for the death eaters to hurt them. For Ron it was only a painful reminder, for Harry, another home destroyed. Still, Hermione found herself wandering up here, hoping and praying that there would be someone, someone to make it feel like the home she remembered. There was no one.

Hermione stared into the empty fireplace and shivered. She couldn't find the energy to light the fire, or find a blanket, though the cold was seeping into her very bones. She never thought of the common room as cold, not until this moment.

She could only feel numb about everything, she was yet to cry. The battle didn't stop for tears and neither did the clean up. Now, though, now was the time to cry but she couldn't. She just stared into the fire, wishing it was lit.

The portrait door opened but Hermione paid it no mind, she barely even heard it. She didn't hear the footsteps approaching her, nor the small gasp when the unknown person caught sight of her blue lips. She didn't even notice when a blanket was draped over her shoulders or the whispered words of a fire spell. She did notice the fireplace suddenly flare to life and she jerked back at the bright light.

"Hey, shh, you're okay."

The soft murmur calmed her instantly; she would recognise the voice of her girlfriend anywhere. Hermione turned to face her beautiful woman; she saw the tear tracks on her face and the red edges of her eyes. Hermione felt a small seed of jealously, _why can she cry but I can't?_

She instantly felt ashamed of her thoughts; Parvati was here, comforting her instead of with her family. Hermione frowned at that thought, not at all happy Parvati was here instead of with her family. She was sure Padma survived, Hermione remembered seeing her during the clean up.

"Why are you here?" Hermione was surprised by how dull, how dead her voice sounded.

Parvati was too if her frown was anything to go by. "I can go, if you want me to leave," she said.

Her voice was still low and it seemed to warm something deep inside Hermione. _No,_ she thought, _I don't want you to go._ "You should be with your family," Hermione said instead. She refused to be the reason Parvati left her sister alone, especially after a day like today.

Parvati's face softened and she smiled sadly. "Padma is with Dennis, they're looking after each other."

 _Of course,_ Hermione thought. Dennis would be going through hell right now, as would Padma, being Colin's girlfriend. Hermione just turned her eyes back to the fireplace, the bright flames mesmerising her.

Parvati settles herself next to Hermione and pulls her close.

"I'm broken," Hermione said once the silence became suffocating.

Parvati didn't reply straight away, though her arm tightened around her. When she did, it wasn't the words Hermione was expecting. "So am I."

Those words cut straight into Hermione's heart and she felt a shudder run through her. Parvati, if possible, tightened her hold again.

"If it's a broken part, replace it, if it's a broken arm, then brace it, if it's a broken heart, then face it." Parvati whispered.

Hermione recognised the words, though she couldn't remember where from at this moment. They never meant as much to her as they did right then. Hermione could feel the tear finally start to prickle at her eyes and her nose start to twitch. She turned and buried her face into Parvati's stomach.

Parvati just ran a hand down her head, tangling her fingers into her hair as she cried. "You're okay, you're safe. Everything will be okay one day. I promise."

* * *

(w.c 892)

WolfWinks-xx-


	2. CharlieBill (brotherly)

**Title:** I Can't Imagine Life Without Her  
 **Summary:** Charlie walks into the common room depressed, can Bill help? **  
Pairing/Characters:** Charlie/Bill (brotherly only) **  
Rating:** K  
 **Warnings** : N/A **  
Notes:** N/A

* * *

Charlie wasn't a person that was usually sad. He was an upbeat, lively person and he liked being that way. He wasn't today. Today, he was sad, no, more than sad, he was completely shattered. Walking into the common room, his shoulders slumped, he disappeared straight into the boys dormitories. Only one person downstairs felt like he needed to be followed and so only one person did.

Charlie entered the room looking down. He didn't see the other two boys who were sitting on one of the beds; he just entered and collapsed on his own. He then buried his face into the pillow and let the tears fall silently.

He was still a little in shock, to be honest. He wasn't sure what happened over the Christmas break but something obviously did. She came back different, crueller, meaner. She wasn't the person Charlie fell in love with.

He ignored the whispered conversation going on behind him, only paying attention when he heard his own name.

"...Charlie's brother. He might know what's going on and might be able to help."

"Charlie's brother, as in Bill? He's scary, you go talk to him."

That comment almost managed to bring a smile to his face. Bill wasn't scary, he just looked scary and it was always funny to see the reaction of the people around him. It was a little sad to see fifth years still afraid of him, though.

"...obviously wrong, go get him."

"Boys? Is Charlie in here?"

Charlie instantly recognised the voice as his older brother's and felt a wave of relief and warmth. He could feel tears falling again and all he wanted was his brother. Charlie didn't hear a response from his dorm mates so he assumed they pointed in his direction or otherwise indicated he was here.

"You boys mind giving us a few minutes?"

There was a scuffle and then a loud thud which made Charlie think one of the boys fell on his way out. There was a soft click once the boys shut the door but then the only sound was Bill's footsteps approaching. Charlie didn't move from his position, his face pressed against the pillow, his feet dangling off the edge and his arms curled around him in a mockery of a hug. He felt the bed sink next to his and warmth seemed to sink into his surprisingly cold body. _How long was I wandering outside?_

"Charlie," the deep rumble of Bill's voice calmed him somewhat, "what's wrong?"

With those words his thoughts turned back to his disastrous morning. The hurt, the disbelief, the outrage, the anger, the shock, it was all too much. Charlie shook his head and buried himself deeper into the pillow. The tears were faster now and he wasn't crying quietly anymore.

Charlie felt Bill shift on the bed and then there was a hand on his back.

"Shh, take a deep breath. Come on, you can do it."

Charlie realised he was starting to hyperventilate and made a conscious effort to slow his breathing. Eventually, after many tries and Bill's constant reassurance, Charlie managed to calm down. Bill was still there, rubbing his back slowly and whispering nonsense words that didn't make sense in Charlie's mind. He only knew they were a comfort and that was all that mattered.

"She broke up with me," Charlie whispered, his voice was rough and weak.

Bill's hand only stilled for a moment with the words. He knew that they meant, what she meant, to Charlie. "Do you know why?" He asked after a moment.

All of Charlie's muscles tensed up and he nodded his head slowly. He didn't want to think about this, didn't want to talk, but he felt the words bursting to come out. He needed to tell Bill because he knew, out of everyone, Bill would understand.

"She said something like it wasn't serious and she could never lower herself to become a part of a family like ours." Charlie dissolved into sobs, absently noticing Bill's hand had stopped moving.

Charlie cried at the injustice of it.

 _You're more pathetic than I thought if you believed we could live happily ever after._

 _Your mudblood-loving family is not good enough._

 _Blood traitors_

 _It was nothing serious_

 _You're just not good enough for me._

"Charlie, please calm down. You're hyperventilating again."

The words penetrated the fog inside his mind and he realised he was sitting up, held in Bill's arms. He was also breathing pretty quickly and, again, consciously slowed his breathing down.

"She isn't worth it."

Charlie was completely limp in Bill's arms, having two almost panic attacks sapped all his energy but he managed to push himself up to look at Bill. He was frowning, no, glaring at a spot on the bed and his eyes were watery. Charlie was surprised by the emotion he was showing.

"Charlie, she isn't worth anything and she doesn't deserve you."

Charlie didn't respond he only looked away from his brother. The silence stretched on and Charlie started to fidget when he felt Bill's gaze on his back.

"I was going to marry her," Charlie whispered eventually.

Bill sucked in a sharp breath, apparently not realising how devoted Charlie was to her.

"I had it all planned out, I was going to buy the ring over summer break, propose at the end of next year. I was going to spend my life with her." Charlie looked up, he was crying again.

"I'm sorry." Bill's voice was rough now, almost like he was holding back his own tears.

"I can't imagine life without her, she was my love story. What am I going to do now?" Charlie looked into Bill's eyes, pleading with him to help.

Bill only shook his head. "I can't tell you what to do or how to do it. One day it won't hurt as much, until then, you can cry and I'll be here."

Charlie gazed at him for a moment and then collapsed into Bill's arms. It was painful, heart-wrenching sobs that tore through Charlie's chest this time and Bill just held onto him. Comforting him in a way only a brother could.

* * *

(w.c 1064)

WolfWinks –xx-


	3. Harry

**Title:** What if?  
 **Summary:** You will not give up, even if others do. **  
Pairing/Characters:** Harry **  
Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : The story is about a child going missing (kidnapped) and it has parts from her perspective. Nothing bad happens in the story but it's implied. **  
Notes:** I t's written in second person, let me know what you thought.

* * *

What if you had been there?

What if she was watching?

What if she comes home?

* * *

You receive the call at work; you don't know what to think. Denial is first, you attack the man on the phone.

 _You've got it wrong!_

 _She can't be!_

But you know deep down, what he says is the truth. You pack up and rush away, ignoring the calls from co-workers and threats from your boss. Nothing else matters except your little girl, your lost little girl.

* * *

You arrive at the house to find a distraught wife, one you should comfort but can't bring yourself to. It's her fault, she should have been watching. You turn to the kitchen, headquarters for the search, and see people everywhere. It warms you slightly that so many people would turn up to search for your girl, but then go ice cold. You don't want to think about your little girl lost.

You hear someone enter behind you but you don't turn. You focus on the map, the people, the words, though you can't manage to understand them.

"Harry?"

You recognise the voice but you ignore it. You don't want to say anything you may regret later, though you couldn't regret much at the moment.

"Harry, please-" a sob interrupted her speech and you turn despite yourself. There she is, tears, snot and mascara running down her face which is red and blotchy. Her eyes are bloodshot and her hair is dishevelled from running her hand through it. You know, logically, it isn't her fault but you can't control your rage.

"Do not speak to me."

You turn back around, this time jumping into action, demanding that you are a part of the search, no one argues. You try to ignore your wife run into the other room in tears and you ignore the ache in your heart when you fail to ignore it. You only have to think of your lost little girl to dismiss the small ache. It's her fault, it's all her fault. You won't be sorry for speaking to her like that, not until your little girl is found.

* * *

 _The man's face is like a wolf, scary, evil. It looks like its hungry whenever it looks at you. You curl up small, an easy thing to do because you're so small normally._

" _I want my mummy."_

 _The wolf chuckles_

 _"I want my daddy."_

* * *

It's been two days now. Two days of constant searching. You've found nothing, no trace, no sign, not even the smallest one. Others are starting to lose hope but you don't, you won't. You know your little girl is out there, somewhere. You just have to find her.

Your wife is still searching, not giving up. You feel a little bad about your reaction that first day, not enough to apologise, but you do feel bad, somewhat. You think, maybe one day, maybe one day you can forgive her. It's a hard thing to trust after it's been broken so severely. She didn't mean to, but she did. She broke the trust you placed in her when you left your little girl in her care.

You work night and day. You don't sleep and barely eat. You lost your ob yesterday but you don't care, you have money saved. Your wife spends her nights with the boys but you find it too hard. It's not fair that only two are safe, there should be three. There should be three and until there is three again, you won't give up.

* * *

 _The room was small, you'd been moved yesterday. He picked you up and you struggled, biting and kicking and hitting and fighting but he just hit you. You stayed still after that._

" _All the better to eat you with." The wolf read. He reads to you every night, the same story every single night. You only cry._

 _He smiles at you and pulled your blanket up. "You will love me one day."_

 _You only cry because you know you won't, not while you still remember your mummy and daddy._

* * *

The red sunset appears again and you almost collapse in despair. They won't let you search at night, not anymore, not since the search turned to a body recovery. You no longer know how long it's been, a week, maybe two. You're wife has already yelled at you, begged you to forgive her.

" _I'm not perfect, Harry! I made a mistake-"_

" _A mistake," you say, outraged "this is more than a mistake!"_

" _I know," she whispered, "I know."_

You haven't been home since, you haven't seen your boys and your heart aches. It pains you to stay away but it hurts too much, you can't see them without seeing your little girl, your lost little girl.

* * *

 _You want to fly away, into the clouds. The flight that would be your escape. You don't remember your name anymore, not your real one. The wolf has named you, Charlotte. You don't like that name, it doesn't match but you no longer know what does._

 _You don't remember much but you remember your mummy and your daddy. You still hope they will find you, that they will take you home._

* * *

It's been a long time, you're not sure how long, at least a year, maybe two. You family hasn't seen you since that dark day, the day everyone else gave up. You didn't go to the funeral. You don't believe she is dead so why would you go to her funeral. She's just lost, she's just lost and you will find her.

You search all day and at night you eat only enough to keep yourself alive. You sleep for a few hours, enough to recharge and then you drink until the sun comes up. Then you search. You no longer know where to search, where to look but that doesn't stop you. You'll look everywhere if you have to. You won't rest until you find your little lost girl.

* * *

What if you'd been there?

What if she's still waiting?

What if she never comes home?

* * *

(w.c 1,130)

WolfWinks –xx-


	4. HarryNeville

**Title:** Misunderstanding  
 **Summary:** Neville sees his boyfriend cheat but maybe everything isn't all it seems **  
Pairing/Characters:** Harry/Neville **  
Rating:** K  
 **Warnings** : Possibly a little cliché... **  
Notes:** N/A

* * *

The scene seemed to move in slow motion. One minute they were smiling, laughing even, the next they were kissing. His boyfriend and his boyfriend's ex-girlfriend were kissing. Neville felt like something sharp pierced his heart and tore it out of his chest. He was shocked, so shocked, but not surprised.

 _Harry could have anyone, why would he want me?_

Neville backed out of the common room easily, having only just entered, and therefore, didn't see Harry pull away with a frown.

Neville ran, he wasn't sure where he was going but he ran and ran until he couldn't pull any air into his lungs and his legs would no longer hold him up. Collapsing to the ground, he realised quickly that he was outside. It was raining, _how cliché,_ and his whole body was completely drenched, it was also night time. It wasn't night when he entered the common room. Checking the time, he realised it was dinner time but Neville wasn't hungry, not at all.

Looking around, he found himself near greenhouse 2 and decided to crawl inside, the room being his favourite one at Hogwarts and the one he spent the most time in. Neville always managed to find comfort in the plants. He found that they relied on him in a way no one else had before Harry, e _xcept he doesn't, not enough to stay faithful._

Neville let out a sob, crumbling, again, to the floor of the greenhouse, just beside the door. He was shaking badly, he was freezing and he wondered how long he spent running outside. He hugged himself tightly and prayed for the world to disappear. Eventually, he drifted into restless oblivion.

* * *

Neville felt himself being dragged out of sleep by a relentless shaking. He tried to bat away the arm but it wouldn't let go. Neville slowly awoke, intending to shoo the annoyance away when he became aware of a voice to go with the arm.

"Neville, Neville please. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please wake up. Please wake up and let me explain, please."

Neville violently flinched at Harry's voice and his eyes sprang open. He pulled his body as far away from his boy- no, ex-boyfriend, and hugged his knees to his chest. He knew he looked vulnerable but he wasn't worried, Harry may be a cheater but he wasn't someone who would take advantage of his vulnerability; _at least, I hope he isn't._

Harry seemed to slump at Neville's action, like they confirmed something he was thinking. Neville realised that Harry had been crying and was, in fact, still crying. Tears steadily flowed out of his eyes like he couldn't stop them even if he wanted to.

"Please Neville, please let me explain. I know I don't deserve it but please."

Neville's heart broke at the anguish in Harry's voice and he instantly felt guilty about causing it, _but you didn't cause it, he did._ Neville wasn't angry at Harry, as hard as that was to believe, he never expected their relationship to last very long anyway. Neville nodded anyway, for some reason wanting to hear him end things.

"I didn't kiss her."

 _What?_ "Please don't lie, I saw you." Neville was surprised by how rough, how small his voice sounded.

"Well, I mean, we kissed but I didn't kiss her. She kissed me, I didn't kiss back."

Neville stared at him with wide eyes, _it's too good to be true._

"Neville, listen. We were talking, laughing, generally having a good time and suddenly she was kissing me. I was so shocked by her actions, I froze for a moment. When I gathered my senses, I pushed her away. She was standing there with flushed cheeks but her eyes were completely wide. She didn't mean to kiss me either, it just happened."

Neville snorted, not believing that for a moment.

"I know how it sounds, believe me, I do. I raged at her for a bit and she finally explained. Yes, she still has feelings for me but she never planned on acting on them. She knew we were together and didn't want to ruin that, too late now, I guess but I swear that's the truth."

Neville observed Harry as he took in a deep breath. He seemed desperate for Neville to hear the truth, frantic even but Neville wasn't sure. It was more believable that Harry just didn't know how to break up with him, Harry was always too nice. There was that small ball of hope that hadn't disappeared, hope that Harry was telling the truth and he really did want to be with him. Evidently, the silence was making Harry extremely nervous and he'd started fidgeting with his hands.

"Neville, please believe me. I understand if you want to break up, I do, but please believe me when I say I can't imagine my life without you."

Neville's froze with shock.

"I love you Neville, I think I always have and I don't think I'll survive without you in my life."

Neville stared at Harry, Boy-Who-Lived, sort after by everyone whether it was a friendship or more, hottest male at Hogwarts (according to every girl he ever spoke to, and, if he was honest, he had to agree) and he was professing his love for clumsy, stupid, ugly, Neville. Neville could barely believe it, in fact, the idea brought tears to his eyes because he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

Neville shook his head in denial, "Don't lie, you're Harry Potter, why would you love me."

Harry moved towards him and wrapped his arms around Neville's shaking frame. "I have never met a more caring, loving, beautiful person in my whole life. If you would have me, I promise to spend the rest of my days by your side. I swear it."

A warm glow seemed to encase the pair, sealing Harry's promise and Neville could only stare at him. Harry started to fidget again, alerting Neville to how long he'd been staring.

"So?" Harry asked, pulling away slightly.

"So what?"

"Will you have me?"

Neville felt warmth spread through his whole body, seeing Harry nervous about his response seemed to confirm everything for him, even more than the wizard promise did. Neville brought his hands up to Harry's face and connected their lips, sealing the deal.

* * *

(w.c 1,088)

WolfWinks –xx-


	5. SiriusRegulus (brotherly)

**Title:** A Lamb Sandwich  
 **Summary:** Regulus may hate his brother most of the time but sometimes Sirius showed him exactly why he loved him. **  
Pairing/Characters:** Sirius/Regulus (brotherly only) **  
Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : There is a mercy death of an animal. **  
Notes:** Written for Speed Drabble: struggle, bird, "It's really chewy."

* * *

Sitting outside, enjoying the sun with some lunch and some silence was one of Regulus' favourite activities. Too bad it was not often he managed to enjoy it, not with a brother like Sirius.

"Regulus!"

Regulus sighed, _speak of the devil._ Choosing not to answer, Regulus took another bite out of his sandwich.

"Regulus!"

Still not answering, Regulus stood up. _Three, Two-_

"Regulus," Sirius screamed.

Regulus winced, Sirius was right behind him and that hurt. "What?" Regulus shot Sirus a glare which he seemed to not notice. _Honestly, it is like he is 2 years old instead of ten._

"Did you not hear me?"

"I heard you."

Regulus stared at Sirius expectantly and Sirius mirrored him. After a few minutes of silence, Sirius wearing his stupid grin, Regulus huffed and turned away. He placed his sandwich back on the plate and walked away, towards where he could hear a bird. He was ignoring Sirius and, therefore, missed seeing him pick up his sandwich and take a bite out of it, that is until he spoke.

"It's really chewy," Sirius said.

Regulus spun around, about to ask him what he was on about when he saw Sirius with his sandwich. Instead of the glare, he was sure Sirius was expecting, Regulus smiled.

"That is because it has lamb in it. Lovely, juice lamb." Regulus enjoyed watching his brother pale and spit out any sandwich that was left in his mouth.

Sirius glared at Regulus once his mini fit was over which only made Regulus' smirk widen.

"Oh, right, you refuse to eat baby animals, my bad."

Sirius' glare intensified and he threw the rest of the sandwich at Regulus' head, which he dodged.

"Stop acting like a child, you are meant to be the older one."

Sirius stuck his tongue out, causing Regulus to roll his eyes.

Regulus turned away from his brother and continued to approach the sound he could hear. The bird sounded in distress. He heard Sirius struggling to catch up with his long strides and Regulus hoped he tripped. Unfortunately, he managed to catch up without falling over.

"Where are you going anyway?

Regulus ignored him, walking behind a bush and finding a bird struggling to push itself up off the ground. Regulus sighed sadly, its wing was broken.

"Oh," Sirius said when he turned the corner and saw what he saw. Sirius sounded sad too.

Regulus closed his eyes, he heard Sirius sit beside him and place a hand over his shoulder.

"I have it, go finish your lunch."

Regulus shook his head and stayed kneeling.

"Go on, I will not be long."

Regulus sighed but stood up. He wished it did not have to be this way but, if they left it, it would be in more pain later. Regulus still remembers when he asked his mum to help the first bird he found. He does not want to see that again. Regulus kept walking until he heard the birds chirping stop. Turning around, he saw Sirius come out from behind the bush. They locked eyes and shared a sad smile.

"Come on Regulus; let me make you a new lunch."

Regulus nodded and they walked into the house side by side, picking up the discarded plate on the ground. His brother may be a pain in the arse but he knew Sirius loved him, just like he loved his big, protective brother.

* * *

(w.c 623)

WolfWinks –xx-


	6. DoreaCharlus and son

**Title:** Broken hearts  
 **Summary:** Dorea doesn't realise how much it hurt to watch her life walk away from her. **  
Pairing/Characters:** Dorea Potter/Charlus Potter and their son **  
Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : N/A **  
Notes:** It might sound harsh but remember that this was during a different time and I think that even the most loving and honourable people who were born during this time would be embarrassed by this situation. I think that it works but if you hate it let me know. *Let me know if you love it as well, please)

* * *

Sometimes she wished her son was never born. It sounds awful and it is but it was no less the truth. Dorea Potter loved her son, more that she loved anyone else. The moment he was placed in her hands she was in love. He looked up at her with squinty, newborn eyes and he cried. Dorea remembers crying with him.

" _Such a beautiful baby,"_ her husband said.

Dorea had nodded in agreement, still blubbering like their little boy, their little baby Edward. They planned to be a happy family. That was only a dream.

* * *

It didn't start off bad, not at all. The first few years were wonderful. Edward was such a curious child. Once he could move on his own it was hard to keep track of him; once he was walking it was almost impossible.

"Such an active boy," Charlus said to her one afternoon.

The couple were watching their three-year-old boy climb a tree, or, at least, trying to.

"He is, and so inquisitive," Dorea said.

They stood together in silence, enjoying the nice afternoon. Charlus laced his fingers through Dorea's after a while, turning to smile at her. "He'll be showing signs soon," he said once she turned to look at him.

Dorea smiled at his words, "he will," she paused for a moment, watching their son race after a butterfly having given up on the tree. "What will his first be do you think?"

Charlus shrugged, "I don't know, every child is different."

Dorea nodded, "true." She turned to watch her son again as she speculated what his first accidental magic would be.

* * *

Dorea didn't enjoy watching her husband pace. It was a sign of distress which was never good. His pacing now was almost frantic, almost. Dorea wished she didn't know what he was pacing about, it would have been easier if she didn't know, unfortunately, she did know.

"He could just be a late bloomer," Dorea said quietly.

Charlus ignored her, continuing his pacing. The only sign that he saw her was the quickening of his pace.

"It's happened before to children; it's not yet time to lose hope."

Charlus whirled around to face her, "You don't really believe that, do you?"

Dorea didn't answer, not wanting to admit the truth. Her lack of an answer seemed to be what Charlus expected, though, because he nodded and continued his pacing.

"It's almost his ninth birthday, he should have done something by now," Charlus said almost to himself.

Dorea sighed and hid her trembling hands from her husband. He was right, even if she really didn't want to admit it. What was she going to do if he never received a letter?

* * *

The three family members were in the dining room, waiting.

"What's the time?"

Dorea looked at her pale and shaking child. She brought her arms around him and hugged him close, "not yet eleven at night," Dorea replied.

Charlus snorted, "the time doesn't matter anymore." He was pacing again.

Dorea frowned at her husband's words even if they made her heart ache, "it's still his birthday, it could still come."

Charlus snorted again but he didn't comment.

Dorea rubbed a hand down her child's back, trying to calm the scared child. He buried his head in her neck and started shaking. She focused on comforting her child while waiting for a letter to arrive, one she knew never would.

The family sat in silence for the next hour, waiting. When the clock struck twelve and no letter had arrived, Edward dissolved into sobs. Dorea could feel his tears but he was silent as he cried. Dorea wanted to cry with him but didn't, instead focusing on her child. Charlus stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him making the other occupants jump.

"I'm sorry mummy, please don't. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."

When the mumbled words of her distraught child reached her ears, she couldn't hold her tears back any longer, "so am I, Edward. So am I."

* * *

"We have to," Charlus said, pacing in front of Dorea.

"I can't, Charlus, I just can't," Dorea's voice was so weak, so broken. She didn't know how to deal with this, she didn't understand any of it. Here she was, sitting in a chair she so often sat in, and trying to decide something impossible.

"Too bad," Charlus winced when Dorea flinched away from his harsh tone. He knelt down in front of her chair and gripped her hands tightly. He stayed silent until Dorea looked up.

"Please don't make me choose," Dorea whispered.

"I'm sorry, Dorea. Imagine what would happen if we didn't do something. He would be ridiculed, teased. He wouldn't be able to leave the house without fear and neither would we."

Dorea took a deep, shuttering breath, "I know but he's my son."

"He's mine too," Charlus whispered.

For the first time, Dorea realised how hard this must be for Charlus. To have his first born son, well, as he is. It wasn't fair.

"I won't kill him," Dorea whispered finally.

Charlus nodded as if he expected that answer. "Okay, we'll go tomorrow."

Tears fell fromDorea's eyes but she nodded anyway, "okay," she whispered. She knew she would regret her decision.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Edward asked his mother.

Dorea didn't look down at her son. Charlus was out, working; she needed to do this alone. Dorea knew that this would break her. She would never be the same again, _why does this have to happen_

"Mum?"

Dorea still didn't look down, "somewhere nice, you'll like it."

Edward fell silent, nodding once. He'd turned into a quiet child. Ever since his eleventh birthday and the discovery he'd been subdued, almost, scared. She didn't like the changed but then, they'd all changed. Their happy family was no more, not since that day.

When Dorea saw the distant muggle town she stopped and turned to Edward. She knelt down and looked him in the eye for the first time since that night.

"Edward," she said slowly, softly. There was a look in her son's eyes, a look that told her he already knew his fate. "Edward, do you see that town?"

Edward nodded

"Can you get there without getting lost?"

Edward nodded again.

"Okay, I need you to go there and stay."

"Please," Edward whispered, his voice broken. "Please don't do this."

Dorea's heart ached but in that moment she thought she was doing what was best, best for everyone. "You'll be okay. You'll make some friends, even another family."

"I don't want another family," Edward whispered, tears welling in his eyes but not yet falling.

Dorea suppressed her tears, she needed to be strong. "You'll be better off, I promise."

Edward stayed silent, searching her face for something. After only a few moments his eyes dropped to the ground and he nodded.

"Edward, I know it doesn't seem like it but I love you. I love you so much and that will never change." Dorea brought her hands up to cup his cheeks and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I love you, Edward, my son."

Edward looked up slowly and Dorea's heart broke when she saw the tears. "If you loved me," Edward whispered slowly, "you wouldn't care that I was a squib. If you loved me, you wouldn't abandon me." With those words, Edward turned and walked towards the town, away from his mother.

Dorea froze, she didn't expect that at all. Dorea watched as her son, her only child, walked away from her. She wanted to call out, to bring him home but she didn't. She stayed where she was until she couldn't see her little boy anymore and then she left for home. She knew she would never see her son again.

* * *

Sometimes, Dorea wishes her son was never born.

* * *

(w.c 1,359)

WolfWinks-xx-


	7. SeamusTheo

**Title:** Not Alone  
 **Summary:** Theo realises something unexpected about Seamus after Seamus comes home drunk after a fight.  
 **Pairing/Characters:** Theo/Seamus  
 **Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : N/A  
 **Notes:** N/A

* * *

Theo wasn't sure why he was here, _I'm still mad at him,_ but Theo was not able to ignore their usual Friday movie night ritual, mad or not. The house was calm at the moment, no one was home apparently, that just made Theo feel even more ridiculous for arriving. Theo was just standing up to leave when the front door flew open and Seamus stumbled in. Theo instantly recognises that Seamus is drunk and frowns, concerned.

Theo knew that most thought Seamus was a drunk, partying and drinking until the early morning but that plainly wasn't the case. Seamus' father had been a drunk and a mean one at that. Theo didn't know details but he could make some educated guesses. What Theo did know was that Seamus didn't drink, no more than Butterbeer (and, really, is that even alcohol, they give it to children). Seamus coming home drunk was a first occurrence and Theo's anger melted away at the sight.

"Theo?" Seamus was slurring his words and his pupils were blown wide.

"Seamus, what are you doing?"

Seamus continued to stare at Theo like he didn't believe what he was seeing. He didn't say anything and barely moved, only gently swaying, indicators of his heavy alcohol night. That was, until Seamus fell forward, apparently losing his balance.

Theo sprung into action, grabbing Seamus before his face hit the ground. He wrapped a gentle but tight arm around Seamus' waist and lowered them both to the ground as Theo, being the smaller (but not by much) of the pair, wasn't able to hold Seamus' dead weight.

Seamus didn't seem to mind, apparently snuggling into Theo's arms happily and mumbling about Christmas.

"Seamus," Theo said, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend's actions.

Seamus didn't respond, only snuggling deeper into Theo's neck, almost like he was trying to disappear into him.

"Seamus, stand up. I'm taking you to the couch."

"No!" Seamus sat upright, slamming his head into Theo's chin in the process, and stared at Theo with wide frightened eyes. "No, please."

Theo frowned, rubbing his chin, but placed his free hand over Seamus' cheek, trying to calm him. "You don't want to stay on the floor, do you?"

Seamus didn't blink, didn't move, it was a little unnerving. "Yes," Seamus said.

"Yes, you do?"

Seamus nodded, determined.

"Why?" Theo was honestly confused at his boyfriend's actions. Seamus was weird, Theo knew this, but tonight he was just plain odd.

Seamus didn't look away, barely moved. "You're on the floor."

Theo frowned, he still didn't get it but he felt a sense of foreboding creep up on him. "I can be on the couch too," Theo said, trying to convince Seamus to move.

Seamus shook his head, "we'll go to the couch, I'll fall asleep and you will be gone."

"What? I won't leave if you don't want me to," Theo said.

"You won't have a choice, once I wake up, you'll be gone."

Theo honestly had no idea what Seamus was going on about and Seamus seemed to understand this because he huffed out a breath and brought both hands up to Theo's face, cupping both cheeks.

"You'll be gone because you're not really here in the first place. You're all in my head and when I wake, you will be gone again."

Theo's eyes widened, _why would Seamus think that?_ "I am real Seamus, I promise, can't you feel me?"

Seamus shook his head again, "you can't be here. I did something stupid and now you'll leave me and I'll be all alone because I did something stupid." Seamus removed his hands from Theo's cheeks and buried his face in them. "I don't want to be alone," Seamus sobbed.

Theo's heart broke. He didn't realise how hard Seamus had taken their fight. Theo couldn't honestly remember what it was about now; he only knew that Seamus did something stupid, like he said. Theo cringed when he remembered all the words he threw at Seamus in his rage. Theo felt guilt threatening to crush him but he didn't let it, not yet anyway. "You're not alone, Seamus. Trust me; I will always be here, even when I'm mad."

Seamus didn't respond, only sobbing into his hands. Theo reached forward and tugged a now unresisting Seamus up and towards the couch. Theo settled them next to each other and he started to run a hand through Seamus' hair. Seamus snuggled close and they cuddled in silence until Theo felt Seamus drift off.

"I promise, no matter what, I will always love you."

* * *

Seamus woke to a splitting headache and a fuzzy memory of Theo being around. He groaned and rolled over, only to fall of the couch with a thump. Seamus groaned again but he managed to pull himself up and look around his empty apartment. He felt the ache in his heart drown out the pain in his head when he realised it actually was an empty apartment, Theo wasn't here. _Stupid, of course, he isn't._

Seamus stumbled into the kitchen in a daze and walked to the fridge, only to turn away from all the food in disgust. The floo behind him flared to life and Seamus groaned for the third time, he really didn't want visitors right now.

"Seamus?"

Seamus froze, _surely that isn't-_

"Seamus, where are you?" Theo's voice became louder until he was in the kitchen with Seamus staring wide-eyed and frozen.

"There you are," Theo said, unwrapping a scarf from around his neck and chin. "You had to wake up the moment I left, didn't you."

"What?" Seamus asked weakly, he wasn't expecting this at all.

Theo paused his actions to look at Seamus. "I left to gather some clothes, I hate wearing the same thing twice and considering I spelt in those clothes, I wanted new ones." Theo raised an eyebrow at Seamus with a small smile on his face. He finally pulled his scarf off.

Seamus, who had been staring at the centre of Theo's chest, unwilling to look into angry eyes, looked up at that point. He paled instantly.

"Did I do that?" Seamus asked weekly.

Theo frowned, "what?"

"That!" Seamus stepped forward and in an instant was tilting Theo's head up to look at his chin. "Did I do that?" Seamus asked again.

"Oh, yeah-" Theo was cut off before he could explain.

"I'm so sorry, Merlin, I'm so so sorry. I should have never gone drinking. Oh, Merlin, you should leave me, you should leave and never look back. I can't believe I hit you, please, I'm so sorry."

Theo reached out and covered Seamus' mouth, halting his babbling. Theo would have found it funny in any other circumstances but he knew where Seamus' head was going and it only worried him. "You didn't hit me," Theo said, slowly, clearly. It was important that Seamus understood what he was saying. "You're head knocked into my chin at some point, it was an accident. It was not your fault."

Seamus' shoulders slumped and Theo smiled. Theo moved his hand away from Seamus' mouth and towards his cheek again.

Seamus leant into the hand and smiled, "I thought you were mad at me?" Seamus' voice was light but Theo could hear the fear in it. Theo couldn't help but wonder if Seamus was like this after every fight.

"I got over it," Theo shrugged, deciding that now wasn't the time for that discussion. "Now, let's make you some breakfast." Theo said with a smirk.

Seamus only groaned again.

* * *

(w.c 1,295)

WolfWinks -xx-


	8. George

**Title:** One Long Year  
 **Summary:** George after the war. **  
Pairing/Characters:** George **  
Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : Suicidal thoughts, actions, etc. **  
Notes:** N/A

* * *

George looked out the window blankly. It was a lovely day, sun bright and warm. There was a light breeze blowing through the trees and every face he saw was smiling. The roads were damaged as were the people, it being only a few weeks after the war, but they were happy, happy to be alive, that is, most were. _Not today,_ George thought, _I can't today._ George turned away from the window and pulled the blinds down. _I can't leave today._

* * *

George closed the floo connection with his older brother; he didn't want to talk for long. He just wanted to inform Bill that he wouldn't be coming to Christmas lunch. Bill asked questions though; questions that George didn't want to answer. The more George talked, the more he cried. Tears flowed over his cheeks now but he was silent, his face blank. It wasn't Bill's fault; it wasn't anyone's fault, not really. _I'm just not ready yet._

* * *

The storm clouds were coming in today though it wasn't yet raining. George stared out at the overcast weather, glad that there were no people on the streets below. He didn't like people anymore. No, it was more than a dislike, George was afraid of people. He was scared that if a person saw him, any person, they would just know. He was scared they would be able to see how miserable he was, how broken. He couldn't let anyone see, so he didn't leave.

* * *

There was a knock at his door today; George ignored it. He didn't want to see anyone. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to be friendly. He didn't want to play host. He didn't want to smile. He wanted to drown in self-pity and drink until he couldn't think anymore. The person left after a few knocks; a fact that almost made George smile.

* * *

The knocks were almost a daily occurrence now. Someone would arrive; knock for half an hour, then leave. George never answered the door, never even looked to see who it was. He just didn't care. He didn't care about much. Not the house, the shop, not his family, not anything. He just didn't care.

* * *

The floo connection was disabled and the front door no longer had a knocker. In fact, the door sent an electrical shock into anyone who tried to knock on it. George didn't know why he did that, he just knew he didn't want to speak to anyone.

George looked out the window again; the same window he looked out every day. The streets were silent today; an unusual occurrence. Today was special. _Well,_ George thought, _not special._ Everyone was at Hogwarts today, remembering the war, the battles and the lives lost. George should be there; he should be with his family. He wasn't. George stayed where he had the last year, staring at the object on the table.

One year, one long year and George felt the same pain he did the day he learned of his brother's death. Nothing was better, time was not healing him.

George was broken.

He picked up the knife lightly. It wasn't his fist choice, oh no, but it was the one that felt right. He clenched his hand around the handle softly. He thought he would be more afraid; he wasn't. He felt calm, relaxed. George knew this was the right decision. He brought the knife up to his arm and pressed down, drawing blood.

George smiled, "I'll see you soon, dear brother."

* * *

(w.c 616)

WolfWinks –xx-


	9. Teddy

**Title:** His Dad  
 **Summary:** Teddy remembers and wonders **  
Pairing/Characters:** Teddy Lupin **  
Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : Suicidal thoughts, violence, character death. **  
Notes:** N/A

* * *

The cold winds blew through the boy's dull, turquoise hair. He stared at the shrieking shack, Hogsmeade behind him dark and silent. In his hand was a small potion bottle, unnoticeable by most but the something important to the boy. He remained frozen, staring deep in thought.

Teddy wanted, more than anything, to bring back the days of fun, of running in the sun, eating ice-cream, playing games, laughing, smiling, being together. He wanted it all back but he couldn't have it. It was impossible.

His dad was dead.

Teddy's eyes closed, his shoulders shook; the wind froze his wet cheeks causing them to sting. He clutched the potion bottle tighter.

Harry wasn't his biological father, Teddy knew that, but he was his Godfather. Harry was the person that raised him, protected him, looked after him, and loved him. He was the one that taught him how to ride a broom, took him to collect his wand, bought him his first owl.

Harry Potter was his dad in every way that mattered.

" _Teddy, Run!"_

" _I won't leave you," Teddy sobbed._

" _You have to, I love you Teddy."_

 _Teddy moved towards his dad, refusing to follow his instructions. He was an adult now, even if he only turned seventeen last week. He could make his own choices. Before he took two steps, pops sounded nearby and the shimmer of an apparition ward appeared. "No!"_

 _His dad turned to him, eyes wide. He waved his wand frantically in Teddy's direction, throwing him away and into some cardboard boxes._

 _Teddy, shocked by the actions, didn't move for a moment after he landed. By the time he was standing again there was a large barrier preventing him from helping and preventing others from seeing him._

" _Harry Potter, finally."_

 _Teddy didn't want to watch, he wanted to help but there was nothing he could do. He knew, from previous experience, he wouldn't be able to break his dad's spell. He could only stand and watch while a group of Death Eaters surrounded his father._

" _What do you want, Lucius?"_

 _Lucius chuckled, a sound that would be burning into his memory. "What do you think?"_

 _Teddy watched as his inched his way further from the Death Eaters, they just followed._

" _You know, Mr. Potter, I don't think I've ever felt so free."_

 _Teddy didn't turn his eyes away, didn't blink and didn't move. His body was locked so when Harry turned to look in his direction Teddy saw the sadness, the acceptance and the love. Teddy saw it all, directed at him._

Teddy clutched the bottle tighter, shaking and rocking. _No, no, no._ It wasn't fair, his dad was done fighting. He fought all his childhood, saving everyone, saving the world; he shouldn't have to fight as an adult.

Teddy rose to his feet and started walking towards the broken fence that blocked off the shrieking shack from the public. Teddy remembered being told in third year that the shack was haunted.

" _Some people say you can hear growls and screams at night."_

Teddy knew now the claims were false. It took a night of waking up screaming, having his dad race into the bedroom, wand raised. Teddy would never forget his face, his complete terror and then the way he comforted Teddy, how he sat with him until he was calm.

He remembered his dad explaining the history; how it was actually his biological father who created the rumours. Teddy smiled, even started laughing and he was the first one of his friends, next year, to step over the fence.

Teddy collapsed onto the floor of the shrieking shake, having walked all the way while lost in his memories. He let out a broken sob, closing his eyes and almost dropping the bottle. He wanted his dad to hold him close again. He wanted him to whisper words of nothing stoke his hair, comfort him. _I want my dad._

Teddy shook himself, pushing up from the ground. He moved to the nearby couch and collapsed onto it. He looked at the bottle.

It was stupid, wrong, bad. His dad would hate him or, at least, be disappointed, but it would be so easy. Just one sip and he would be there, with his dad. He wouldn't have to continue without him, he wouldn't have to learn how to live with the pain. He could be with his dad, forever.

Teddy stared at the bottle for a long time, not noticing the cold floor, his shaking limbs or his blue lips. He just stared at the potion bottle that could end his life and remembered.

* * *

(w.c 795)

WolfWinks –xx-


	10. HarryRon (friendship)

**Title:** Maybe Tomorrow  
 **Summary:** Harry knows he can count on his friend, even during his darkest, most shameful moments. **  
Pairing/Characters:** Harry and Ron friendship **  
Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : Self harm **  
Notes:** N/A

* * *

The crimsons blood dripped over his fingers. He looked at it, watched it sliding down his hand slowly only to drip to the ground.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Harry focused on the sound, on the colour, on the movement. He didn't look at the person that caught him in his shame. He didn't want to look at the disappointment, the sadness, the _pity._ He didn't want to see it all there.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

"Harry."

 _No, ignore him._

"Harry, look at me."

Harry didn't move his eyes away from the ground, that small pool.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Harry didn't hear footsteps, not until feet came into view. Hands were cupping his cheeks, pulling his head up. Harry closed his eyes, not allowing himself to glance at the other person.

"Harry, please."

He didn't like hearing the broken voice, knowing he was the cause. He didn't want to hurt anyone, not anymore. Harry still didn't open his eyes.

"Open your eyes and look at me."

The firm voice seemed to reach something inside him. Without conscious thought his eyes open, immediately connecting with the concerned blue eyes of his best friend. He saw the disappointment, the sadness, the dreaded pity but he also saw compassion. He saw a strong understanding, something he didn't expect to see.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Ron said, gently pulling him to the nearby sink.

Harry didn't move, didn't speak. He let Ron lead him; he let him clean his arms and his hands, turning the water dark red. He didn't resist but he didn't help. Ron worked in silence, focused on his task without trying to talk, knowing Harry wouldn't respond.

The cuts were deeper than Harry first thought and some were still bleeding. It only took Ron a wave of his wand and a few mumbled words to heal them in moments. The scars remained; Ron was no expert, after all. Harry didn't care, he liked seeing them and tracing his fingers over the rough marks.

They moved into the bedroom and Ron guided him to the bed, sitting down next to him.

"Do you want to-"

"No," Harry interrupted.

They fell silent, both lost in thought. Harry locked his eyes on a bowl of fruit, particularly the fresh pineapple pieces, bright yellow flesh standing out.

"It's breakfast, I brought it up for you," Ron said when he noticed where Harry was looking. "You weren't there," _again_ was left unsaid.

Harry looked to the ground; the beautiful fruit now turning his stomach with guilt. "Thanks," Harry said anyway, grateful that his friend cared although wishing he didn't need to worry.

Harry felt his shoulders slump; the guilt, shame, pain and depression becoming too much. He wanted to go away, to hide and disappear. To never be found again.

"You don't have to do this alone," Ron said eventually.

Harry didn't respond, letting silence consume the room again. Harry was tense, his muscles tight and coiled, ready to escape. He didn't want to talk about this, he didn't. If Ron forced him to talk, he would leave.

The silence stretched on and on. Slowly, Harry started to relax again until he was leaning against his friend.

"Just rest Harry," Ron whispered.

Harry relaxed completely at Ron's words, feeling safe and warm. Maybe tomorrow they could talk.

* * *

(w.c 586)

WolfWinks –xx-


	11. LunaNeville

**Title:** Sleep Well, My Love  
 **Summary:** Luna knew her job was dangerous but she never thought it would take her away from the one person she cared for. **  
Pairing/Characters:** Luna/Neville **  
Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : Character death. **  
Notes:** Written for The Crownless Queen for April one-shot exchange. Sorry it's a little late.

* * *

Luna hugged Neville around the middle as she leaned into him. She smiled when she heard Neville sigh and lean back.

"I've missed you, love."

Luna smiled, tightening her arms. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be gone so long," she whispered, closing her eyes.

Neville relaxed completely against his wife and smiled. "It's alright, I'm just glad you're here now."

Luna lost her smile, a sad look in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm glad too," she said softly.

"Luna?" Neville asked, apparently hearing the sadness in her voice. "Is everything okay?"

Luna forces a smile on her face when Neville turned to look at her. "Of course, why wouldn't it be?" _I can't tell him._

Neville linked their fingers together and smiled at her. "Okay, if you're sure. You know you can talk to me, right?"

Luna smiled, somewhat sadly. "Right," she said.

Neville sent her one last concerned look before heading to the kitchen, letting go of Luna's hands. "I'll start dinner then."

Luna nodded and watched as Neville retreated from the room. She turned and headed upstairs. "I'm going to have a shower!" Luna called out. She didn't hear Neville's response; already up the stairs.

* * *

The steam in the room dried up her tears as soon as they were shed. Luna looking into the mirror she pulled her hair away from her neck, revealing a large purple bruise, a small dot of red in the centre.

Luna covered the spot with a shudder, trying to forget about her latest exhibition which resulted in the deadly mark. Apparently the horde of Klags she'd been tracking weren't all that friendly.

Klags, a rare species of bees found only in tropical climates with a high concentration of magic. Beautiful, slim bodies with bright vibrant colours, they were sort after by many for their use in may healing potions. Ironically, their venom was the most deadly poison on the planet. It was inserted into the skin through a sting like any other bee. There was no cure.

Luna lowered her face into her hands and she sobbed, knowing her days were numbered. _I wish I never left home._

* * *

Luna walked out of the bedroom, her head fuzzy and her limbs weak. She felt like a knife was forcing its way out of her head and she knew her time was almost up.

"Neville?" Luna called out, approaching the stairs.

"I'm just in the kitchen, do you want anything?"

Luna didn't answer; too busy trying to walk down the stairs without falling.

"Luna?"

Luna lost feeling in her foot, a fact she only noticed once she'd placed it down to step on. Her leg collapsed out from under her and she tumbled down the last few stairs with a groan. She heard something crash in the kitchen and she knew that Neville heard her fall.

"Luna! Are you okay?"

Luna looked up into her husband's face and tried to smile at him. If Neville's frown was anything to go by, she failed.

"Can you move?"

Luna answered by pushing herself up slowly. Neville helped her up, pulling her close to his chest. Luna leaned against him gratefully, now unable to feel either foot.

"What's wrong? Do we need to go to St Mungo's?"

Luna shook her head and pushed away from Neville, still holding onto him to keep herself upright. "Can you help me to the couch, please?" Luna was surprised by how weak her voice sounded.

"Y-yeah, of course." Neville sounded just as surprised.

Neville walked slowly, practically carrying Luna. Once they were at the couch, Luna was huffing and puffing and she couldn't feel anything below her knees.

"What's going on?" Neville asked desperately.

Luna looked down, and fiddled with her fingers.

"Please," Neville begged desperately.

Luna sighed and looked up. "I'm dying," she said bluntly. She hated the way Neville's eyes widened and immediately filled with tears.

"Tell me this is a joke," he said.

Luna lowered her head again and shook it. "R-remember the day I was late home from the exhibition?"

Neville nodded, his fingers clenching tightly onto hers.

"I was late because I was at St Mungo's. I'd been stung by the Klags . . ." Luna trailed off; she didn't need to say anymore.

"No, please. You can't leave me, you can't." Neville pulled her close, tightening his arms around her until it was almost unbearable.

"I'm sorry," Luna whispered. Her eyes filled with tears and she clung to Neville just as tightly.

Neville sobbed onto her shoulder, his cried desperate and broken. He buried his face, hidden from the world.

Luna stared straight ahead, her tears spilling over as she watched the evening sun start to set. She watched the autumn leaves fall; gold, red, green, brown. She watched the wind pick them up, and carry them in a dance only nature itself knew. There was still so much she hadn't seen.

"I don't want to die," Luna whispered before she could stop it. Luna felt Neville pull back and suddenly she was looking into her husband's red-rimmed eyes. "I don't want to die," Luna whispered again, desperately. She could no longer feel her legs.

"I know," Neville whispered, "I don't want you to die either."

Luna sobbed into Neville's chest, his hand rubbing circles on her back. "I'm so scared," she whispered.

"Shh," Neville whispered. He pulled her tighter against him. "Just close your eyes, I'm with you. I'm always with you."

Luna closed her eyes and cried, taking comfort from the one person that meant everything to her. She wished for more time; begged, preyed. She didn't notice when her hands went numb, she didn't notice her arms slacken around Neville. She didn't notice her breaths becoming slower, softer.

Luna didn't notice when she faded into an eternal rest but Neville did. He knew the moment she was gone and he allowed all the false strength to leave his body.

"Sleep well, my love."

* * *

(w.c 1,045)

WolfWinks –xx-


	12. Harry Potter

**Title:** Freedom  
 **Summary:** Harry is locked away. He doesn't want to be locked away anymore and he will do anything to get out. **  
Pairing/Characters:** Harry Potter. There are others but unnamed. See if you can guess who they are XD **  
Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : N/A **  
Notes:** Written for Grim Tales Competition: The Frog King. This is a no magic AU story.

* * *

The walls were white.

The floor was white.

The roof was white.

Everything was white.

Harry hated white.

He wasn't meant to be here. He was meant to be at Hogwarts. He was meant to be learning magic, make friend, have fun. He was not meant to be in this stupid room, in this stupid life.

"Harry?"

"Get out!"

"Now, Harry–"

"Get out!" Harry picked up a pillow and threw it at the man. When the man didn't leave, Harry charged. His started to scream, his hands clenched in fists. The man left quickly.

Here wasn't meant to be here.

* * *

" _I can get you out_ ," a voice whispered.

Harry turned around in the dark room, once, twice. There was no one there.

" _Do you want to get out_?" the same voice whispered. It sounded closer.

Harry turned around again, only to see an empty room. "Yes," he said anyway.

" _You'll have to do something for me_ ," the voice said.

"Anything," Harry breathed out. He still couldn't see the man but that didn't matter much. If the voice could get him out, he would do anything.

" _You promise_?" it said.

"Yes."

A man appeared before Harry. His body was transparent and it flickered like a TV with a bad signal. He was tall with twinkling blue eyes and a long white beard.

" _Perfect_."

* * *

He just had to wait.

Just wait.

" _The perfect moment will show itself_ ," the bearded man had whispered.

So Harry waited.

And waited.

The door opened with a creak and the man from before – the man he scared away – entered.

"Harry?"

Harry moved from behind the door, slamming it into the man. The man fell and he didn't rise. Harry stripped him bare and swapped clothes. Then, he walked out.

He was finally free.

* * *

The world was exactly the same. Stupid people with stupid briefcases running around like their world mattered. Harry knew it didn't. Harry knew nothing mattered, not really.

Except Hogwarts.

Hogwarts mattered to Harry. He needed to get to Hogwarts and learn magic.

" _Come with me_ ," the voice was back.

Harry looked across the street and spotted the odd flickering man. Harry tilted his head in silent question. _Maybe he can take me to Hogwarts._

" _You must fulfil your debt_ ," it said.

Harry glared and shook his head. No, he wanted to go to Hogwarts. He wanted to be free. He didn't want to fulfil the stupid promise he made; the voice didn't even help all that much. He did it on his own, he didn't need anyone's help.

" _You wouldn't have made it past the front door without me_ ," the voice said, reading his thoughts.

Harry turned and left the man floating in the street alone. He wanted to be free.

* * *

" _You will never be free of me_."

The words echoed around him. He hated it. He felt guilty and used and, worst of all, trapped. He didn't feel free and he still couldn't find Hogwarts like he wanted.

 _You will never be free of me._

Harry shook his head, trying to dispel the voice. It didn't leave.

 _You will never be free of me._

No, no, no. This isn't how he was meant to feel.

 _You will never be free of me._

"Fine!" Harry was sick of being trapped. He wanted to be free, from everything.

The man flickered into life, smiling at Harry like he was a small child. " _You accept_?"

"Yes! Only if you leave me alone afterwards," Harry said, glaring for good measure.

" _Of course_ ," he said.

"What do you want me to do?"

* * *

Two days later Harry walked into a church. The colours in the windows attracted Harry's eye and he found himself distracted from the dilemma that brought him here. The room was empty, thankfully, so Harry sat at one of the benches and stared at the light.

"Hi, sir?"

Harry turned to look at the man. He was an older gentleman, he looked tired. There were lines all over his face and his sandy brown hair was highlighted with grey. He was frowning down on Harry, concern plain to see.

"I need to ask a question," Harry said.

The man waved a hand at the seat next to Harry, asking permission to sit. After contemplation, Harry nodded and the man sat.

"Would you like to ask me your question?" the man asked with a small smile.

"Are you the king?" Harry asked, startling the man. Harry didn't care. He needed an answer and only the king could give them to him.

"I'm not our Lord, no, but I do speak to him. You can speak to him as well, if you like?"

"Will he answer?" Harry asked, peering closely at the man.

"Not clearly, God works in many mysterious ways."

Harry scowled down at his knees. He needed an answer, not a riddle.

"Why don't you ask me? I talk to God a lot and I would like to help."

Harry lost his scowl but he didn't look up. Could he ask the strange man? He needed answers but the man wasn't the king. Harry glanced up and looked at the man. He looked sincere and trustworthy. "If you make a promise to someone, do you have to keep it?" Harry said, deciding it was safe.

The man frowned for a moment and thought

 _Good, I want a proper answer, not a quick one._

"I think it would be considered deceitful if you backed out of a promise," he said carefully.

Harry looked down and scowled at his knees again. He clenched and unclenched his fists. "Even if you don't want to fulfil your promise?" Harry asked, desperate for a way out.

"It would still be considered bad, I think." The man paused for a moment and looked at Harry. "What type of promise is it?" he asked after a moment.

Harry jumped from the chair and strode away. "Sorry, I promised not to tell anyone."

He left the church and hurried away. He had a job to do.

* * *

The warm liquid dripped over his hands. The colour was beautiful slowly seeping into the grass below the fallen man. Dark hair splayed out around the narrow faced man. Harry thought he looked like a snake.

The man's eyes were still open and they were flickering slightly, a sigh he was still alive.

"Why?"

The words were barely a whisper but Harry heard them anyway. "I want to be free," Harry said, "and you were in my way."

The man let a tear slip down his blood splattered face before closing his eyes for the last time. Harry watched as the man took his last breath and at that moment Harry saw something. He saw freedom

Freedom in death.

Harry looked down at the knife still stained with the man's blood.

All he wanted was to be free.

* * *

(w.c 1,149)

WolfWinks –xx-


	13. RonHermione

**Title:** Nothing Can Help  
 **Summary:** Hermione leans on Ron through her grief. **  
Pairing/Characters:** Hermione/Ron **  
Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : N/A **  
Notes:** Written for Debs1990 for the Monthly One-Shot Exchange. I really hope you like it.

* * *

Hermione didn't look around herself. The sky was starting to rumble, but she didn't care. There was something soothing about the noise. When she heard pounding feet approaching her, she turned away. She didn't want to see anyone.

"Hermione, come inside."

Hermione didn't move. Her thoughts were far from the upcoming storm, they were still in Australia. She knew that the Burrow was behind her. She knew there was a nice warm fire waiting for her, and possibly a hot mug of butterbeer, but she didn't want to go inside.

"Please, Hermione. You will make yourself sick standing out here."

"No." Her voice was rough. She supposed that was from the tears she'd already shed. She looked up now, right into the eyes of Ron, her recently established boyfriend. He was the only one that had been with her on the disastrous trip. Harry wasn't available. He's been too busy since the end of the war (Ginny's number one complaint at the moment). No, Ron was the only one that was witness to her pain.

"Please, come inside and we can talk."

"No!" Tears welled in her eyes again, but she viciously whipped them away. She didn't want to talk.

"Okay, that's fine. We don't have to talk."

Hermione's shoulders shook as she stared at Ron's earnest expression. He just wanted to help, she knew that, but he couldn't help. No one could help. A drop of water ran down her cheek, and she thought she had started crying without noticing. When another drop landed on her shoulder she realised the storm was starting.

Ron looked up at the sky and bit his lip. "Come on, let's go inside."

Hermione shook her head, but when Ron grabbed her hand she didn't resist.

"Please," he said.

Hermione lowered her head, nodding in the process. She let Ron guide her towards the house, but before they arrived, the sky opened up. Rain poured from the clouds, soaking both her and Ron in an instant. The thunder rumbled through the garden making the ground feel like it was moving, and lightening lit up the sky.

Ron tugged her faster, determined to get out of the rain. When they reached the door, he dropped her hand to open the door. Hermione didn't back away, but when the door was open she didn't step inside.

Inside was evidence of Ron's family, of his parents. She didn't want the reminder of her own parents.

"I can't," she said. She stepped back into the rain.

Ron turned around. His face was so sad, and compassionate. "Hermione, please."

"No!" She had to yell now. The storm was coming in hard and fast, she could barely hear herself think. "My parents are _dead_! They're dead and it's my fault!"

Ron took two steps forward and clamped his warm hands on her shoulders. He leaned in close, bending down so that their eyes were level. "It is not your fault."

Hermione closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, no. If I hadn't sent them—"

"No!" Ron brought his right hand up to cup her cheek. He smoothed his thumb over her cheek until she opened her red-rimmed eyes. "You can't blame yourself for their deaths."

"But if I hadn't—"

"No," he said, interrupting her again. "No. They died in a car accident, something that can happen anywhere. Just because you sent them there for safety, doesn't make their deaths your fault. It's the other driver's fault for driving drunk. Do you understand?"

The storm around them seemed to reach a crescendo. The thunder rumbled almost constantly, and flashes of lightening were coming quicker and closer. Still, Hermione didn't look away from Ron, and Ron didn't look away from Hermione.

Hermione sagged into Ron. She started to sob into his chest, and she let him guide her inside. It wasn't until she was on the couch, wrapped in a warm, pink blanket, and holding a cup of hot butterbeer that she looked at her boyfriend.

She sniffled, and grabbed Ron's hand, clenching it between both of hers like it was a lifeline. "I love you," she whispered.

Ron brought his free hand up to her cheek. He wiped away a tear before leaning forward and kissing her, pulling her close in the process. They stayed like that all night. Hermione cried, wrapped in the pink blanket, and Ron held her close, running a hand up and down her back. When she finally fell into a restless sleep, Ron stayed awake. He continued to run a hand on her back, and through her hair.

"I love you too," he whispered all through the night.

* * *

(w.c 775)

WolfWinks-xx-


	14. Walburga Black

**Title:** Memories Lost  
 **Summary:** Walburga doesn't regret a single thing in her life. Not one. **  
Pairing/Characters:** Walburga Black **  
Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : N/A **  
Notes:** Written for QLFC round 10: Write about Walburga Black (Portrait). Extra prompts: (word) confined, (quote) 'Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.' - Emily Bronte, (image) 2nd image, #15 on list.  
Written for Astronomy assignment #4: Write about someone who had an opportunity, but missed it and regretted it.

* * *

Sirius paced the entry way, glancing at the door every time he turned on the spot. Waiting was not his strong point, and he'd been waiting most of the day now.

"Will you stop that irritating stalking?" a shrill voice said from behind him.

Sirius barely glanced at his mother's portrait, and he continued to pace. "You're just jealous."

Sirius ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the front door once more. "You can't pace because you're confined in that hideous frame."

Walburga snarled, but Sirius still didn't even look at her. He stopped pacing for a moment, and his eyes were dragged towards the wooden guitar leaning against the railing of the stairs. He bit his lip and took a step towards the guitar before shaking his head and continuing to pace.

"It's never going to work," Sirius' mother said from behind him.

"You don't know that," Sirius said with a vicious glare at his mother's portrait. It was the first time he'd looked at her all day.

"I do."

The tone of his mother's voice startled him, but before he could question her there was a knock at the door, and all thoughts flew out of Sirius' head. He froze and stared at the door like it was going to bite him.

"Are you going to answer?" his mother asked with a sneer.

Sirius started moving when he heard his mother's voice. He didn't even notice that the cruel contempt usually clear in his mother's voice was missing.

He approached her portrait and pulled the curtains over her, as she put up her usual protest. Her screaming didn't seem to affect Sirius, and it didn't take long for her to be almost completely covered.

Once Walburga was covered, Sirius stepped towards the door and—with a slight shake in his hand—opened it.

* * *

Walburga watched through a small gap in the drapes as her son welcomed the werewolf into the house. She watched his body relax and the smile that rarely appeared nowadays lit his face up. She couldn't prevent her own sad smile.

Despite hating her son's lifestyle choices, and at times, hating him as well, she did love her son, and she wanted to see him happy.

 _I knew that Potter boy would hurt Sirius,_ she thought with a scowl. Oh, she knew that the Potter boy didn't mean to die, but he did because he was stupid, and Sirius had never quite recovered. _Sirius would have been better off if he followed his family's traditions._

"I've got something to show you," Sirius said, pulling Walburga out of her thoughts.

She looked out of the gap in the curtain again and watched as Sirius picked up the guitar and sat on the staircase.

"This is something special just for you."

The music started then, and Walburga was catapulted into another time and another place. The soft melody of the guitar blended and changed until it was the rich song of a classical violin.

* * *

 _Walburga smiled at the dark haired man before her. His eyes were closed and he was swaying in time to the beautiful music he was creating. His fingers moved over the instrument without any hesitation, and his lips moved in a silent song that only he knew._

 _Walburga found herself closing her eyes and also swaying to the music. She'd never felt so carefree and relaxed._

 _The song picked up the pace, and Walburga opened her eyes to watch the intense movements and passion that the boy expressed. It was strong and powerful, and Walburga felt emotions surge through her. As the song started to come to a close, Walburga felt peace settle over her, and when she opened her eyes after the music trailed off, the boy was smiling at her with the same peace radiating from him._

" _That was amazing," Walburga said._

 _The boy tilted his head down and tipped an invisible hat. "Thank you, Miss Black," he said._

 _Walburga stepped forward. "I'm sorry," she said after a moment, "I cannot remember your name."_

" _Justin Thomas," he said._

" _Mr. Thomas," Walburga said with a small curtsey. "Now, why did you play that beautiful music for me?"_

 _The boy blushed and looked down. He shuffled his feet against the stone floor, and Walburga smirked at his actions, enjoyed the power she had over him. After a moment he lifted his eyes and stared directly into hers. The emotions and intensity of his look had Walburga locked in place._

" _I would like to go to Hogsmeade with you next weekend," he said without a hint of doubt or uncertainty. "Will you go with me?"_

 _Walburga took a deep breath, composing herself, then she smiled. "I would_ — _"_

" _Walburga!"_

 _Turning, Walburga came face to face with Tom Riddle and his gang of pureblood supremacists. She spotted a few of her close friends, and she smiled and waved at them._

" _Who's this, Walburga?" Tom said, eyeing Justin who was starting to shuffle his feet._

" _Justin Thomas," Walburga said, catching Justin's eye again. "Justin, this is_ —"

" _I know who that is," Justin interrupted, contempt evident in his voice._

 _Walburga frowned. That was the first time Walburga had seen a negative emotion displayed on his face. Unease crept into Walburga's gut, and she looked between the two boys._

" _Justin, Justin. . . Why do I know that name?" Tom was tapping his chin, and his eyes lit up with cruelty._

 _Walburga's unease grew. "You guys know each other?"_

" _Ah, now I know," Tom said, completely ignoring Walburga. He took a step forward, now standing next to Walburga. "You're that Mudblood Ravenclaw that continues to suck up to the transfiguration professor."_

 _Justin bristled, but Walburga paled. Her ears buzzed and the room swam out of focus. The word echoed through her mind, making her heart and body ache._

" _Look, I don't want to cause any trouble." Justin's arms were crossed and he kept glancing her way without taking his eyes off Tom. "I was just asking Walburga on a date, so if you don't mind we'll_ —"

" _Wait, you're asking a respected pureblood out on a date? Oh, that's priceless." Tom sneered, and looked Justin up and down. "You must know she would never say yes."_

 _Walburga's eyes widened, her mind going back to those moments she felt more than she'd ever felt before. The passion that seeped into her bones, and the word that almost slipped from her lips._

 _"You don't know that," Justin said, though he no longer sounded as confident as earlier._

 _Walburga turned to look at Tom, who was now staring at her. His eyes bore into her, showing his power and strength. Showing her exactly what would happen if she made the wrong decision._

 _"Tom's right," Walburga said, her voice strong and clear. "I could never date a Mudblood."_

* * *

Walburga closed her eyes and tried to shake the memories away. She didn't look out of the small gap in her drapes, scared at what she might see. Sirius was still playing his song, and the music was powerful and beautiful, but it only made Walburga's heart heavy.

With a frustrated huff, Walburga turned and walked out of her frame. She glared at nothing as the sounds of a happy couple echoed into her frame. She had a good life with a good husband. She'd been gifted with one perfect child that lived up to everything she ever expected. Her family was strong and proud and pure, and she didn't regret a single thing.

She ignored the tear that forced itself out of her eye.

* * *

(w.c 1,266)

WolfWinks -xx-


	15. HarryVampire

**Title:** One Hour  
 **Summary:** Harry knows he can't be around normal people anymore. The dead bodies of his relatives show him that. **  
Pairing/Characters:** Harry and Daphne **  
Rating:** T+  
 **Warnings** : Blood, major character death **  
Notes:** Written for Fairytales classroom: Write about someone who lives in the woods, far away from civilisation. Include their reasons! Bonus: (location) forbidden forest, (word) loner

* * *

 _It was almost morning. The sun was starting to rise over the mountain. He sat in shadows and watched it move with a small smile darkening his face._

 _It wouldn't be long now._

 _He looks down at the still, pale, girl lying at his feet. "I promised I would never again. I broke that promise, and you paid the price." He turned the girl over to reveal wide, blue, lifeless eyes and blood staining her pretty blue dress._

 _Smoke floated in front of his eyes. His end was near._

* * *

The noise irritated him the most. It wasn't the tangy smell he could taste in the air, it wasn't the damp leaves buried in his toe nails, and it wasn't his grey pyjamas stained dark. No, it was the noise that echoed around him, or rather, the memory of a noise he wished he could forget.

Step after step Harry moved forward and forward and forward, escaping from the scene he left behind only hours ago. It still wasn't far enough. _He could still smell it!_

The night's light reflected off the puddles and drops of drew in the trees, setting sparking pain through his temple and into his mind. His now sensitive eyes flinched away from even a hint of light. The winter wind barely affected his cool skin, and the wounds marking his skin are almost completely gone. One mark remains, and it will remain forever.

Two needle sized holes on the side of his neck.

* * *

 _Blonde hair turns red. Pale skin is stained and tainted with marks covering marks. Marks that will never leave._

 _Her struggles have stopped. Her screams have died. She stares straight ahead, still as the dead, but not yet dead herself. She still blink, she still breathes, she still cries._

 _She still begs for the life that's slowly being drained away._

* * *

The sun was rising, and his skin was burning. He'd always been pale, so he'd always burned easily, but there was something different about this burn. For one, he could see smoke.

He'd walked for hours in the forest. Hours of echoing sounds screaming at him and shadows that haunted him with their imagined words. Shadows that formed shapes of familiar people. People now dead and left behind in his childhood prison. Shadows of those he shared blood with, but no love.

 _We always knew you were a monster._

"Nonononononono," he said, shaking his head side to side. He wasn't a monster. He was good. He'd always been good. He only ever wanted to be good.

* * *

 _Scattered screams and cried and pleas echo around the room. Scattered and useless, powerfully powerless. Skies red, ground red, fingers red, nails red. He cries as he tears and shred and destroys. He cries and begs._

" _Please, please forgive me."_

 _His mouth fills with warmth._

* * *

He needed to find shelter. Now. The hours he'd walked had taken him far away from the place he wanted to escape. He could no longer smell the putrid— _delicious_ —blood. A bath in the stream an hour ago may have helped a little.

Walking deeper into the forest, hoping to avoid the dreaded sunlight, his eyes moved constantly. Searching and searching for a log or a hollowed out tree, or even a small cave if one could be found in this area. What he found was so much better.

A small hut, no bigger than an average living room, stood under some ancient trees. The hut's roof had a large hole in one side part of the wall was falling down, but there was shade inside. It was safe. Strange, a hut in the forbidden forest, but safe.

He walked forward, listening for any humans living in the area. Everything was silent, and each step was as loud as a siren. There were no animals, no birds, no nothing. _No humans._

It was the perfect place for someone like him to live.

* * *

" _Thank you for doing this," the girl says, straightening out her dress and sending waves and waves of delicious scents his way. "My sister should be here soon and then I'll be out of your hair."_

 _He nodded, staring at anything but the girl sitting on his tattered couch. He ignored the heart beat._ Ba bum, ba bum, ba bum _. He shook his head. "Nonono," he mouthed to himself._

" _It's just so horrible out there," she said after about 3.5 seconds of silence. "The weather, I mean."_

 _She shifted in her seat and winced. He froze. Lifting her dress just an inch high, she revealed a small cut just above her knee seeping the smallest drops of red. "Damn, I think you have a—"_

* * *

He stood at the door to his new home. It would be the second night— _day_ —he'd slept in the pace, but yesterday was a frantic mess of _hide hide hide._ He'd be living here from now on. The perfectly isolated house.

"I swear I'll never drink blood again, human or otherwise," he said loudly, voice echoing through the empty forest. He opened his mouth and smiled for the first time, a wild smile, revealing to large pointed teeth.

He'd never been a loner, but it was a necessity. He needed to be alone, and alone he now was.

* * *

 _The knock echoes around the now fixed up house. He freezes, turning to the door like it was going to bite him. Opening the door felt like a death sentence, and maybe it was._

" _Hi, I'm Daphne." She holds out her hand to shake, but he doesn't reciprocate. He doesn't want to get that close to her pulse. She pulls it back awkwardly and clears her throat._

" _I'm a little lost," she says with a significantly less chirpy voice. "My sister is driving to get me now, she'll be here within the house, but would you mind if I waited inside. It's raining cats and dogs outside?"_

 _He looks from the rain and the already drenched girl to his isolated haven. Surely it will be fine for an hour. He can control himself for that long. He nods, and a smile appears on the girl's face._

" _Thank you," she chirps, walking inside. "What's your name?"_

 _He frowns, having not used his name for many months now, but he does still remember. "Harry."_

" _It's nice to meet you, Harry." Daphne sits on the couch and smiles at him._

" _Nice to meet you." One hour and she'd be gone. Only one hour._

* * *

(w.c 1,083)

WolfWinks-xx-


	16. HarryRon

**Title:** Bad Days  
 **Summary:** Ron is having a bad day and so is Harry **  
Pairing/Characters:** Harry/Ron **  
Rating:** K  
 **Warnings** : N/A **  
Notes:** Muggle!AU. Written for Transfiguration: write a fic about two people who stick by each other no matter what Bonus: (setting) a public place

* * *

Sometimes it's not possible to be happy. There are days in the world designed for sadness. Rainy days, storms, days where the car refuses to start and the neighbours are being exceptionally obnoxious. Days where the mail is half eaten by a snail and shoelaces refused to be tied.

There are always days like this, and then there are days that are worse.

"You're not listening to me!" Harry yelled over the sounds coming from the bathroom. Bottles of shampoo falling to the ground with a thump or crashing against the wall were probably the tamest of sounds coming from inside.

Harry ran a hand through his dark hair when Ron refused to answer except for an inhuman roar. He paced outside the bathroom and hoped that when Ron calmed down they could talk about this rationally.

"I hate you!" Ron screamed from inside the bathroom.

Or maybe not.

"Ron, please calm down. It wasn't anything like you're thinking."

The bathroom door slammed open and an enraged Ron stormed out. He stood over Harry, unintentionally making Harry flinch back.

"What the bloody hell was it then?

Harry couldn't prevent taking a step back in the face of Ron's anger. The sheer amount of rage he was holding inside was unimaginable, and Harry was sure his secret trip to the doctor wasn't causing this. _Not that he knew I went to the doctor,_ Harry thought wearily. _He never gave me a bloody chance._

"Well," Ron demanded, taking another step forward. "Why were you sneaking around and _what can't you tell me?_ " Ron was practically standing on top of Harry now, glaring down, making Harry feel like he was five years old again standing in front of his uncle. He did _not_ like that feeling.

Harry forced his remembered fears down and stood his ground. He straightened his back and glared at Ron. "If you would just listen!"

"Listen!" Ron tossed his head and started to pace. Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief at the space between them. "Ha! You'll just lie to me again." Ron continued to pace, waving his hands in the air like a raving maniac.

Harry was really starting to worry about him. This wasn't usual behaviour for Ron at all. Harry moved forward, wanting to comfort Ron and try to talk to him about whatever happened that day, but Ron's next words stopped him cold.

"Maybe your uncle was right about you." The moment the words left Ron's lips, he knew he made a mistake. His face paled and he stopped pacing to turn to face Harry. "I. . ."

"If that's what you really think then forget it," Harry said stiffly. He cut his hand through the air like he was cutting all ties between them. "You obviously aren't the person I fell in love with." Harry's voice was small now, almost broken. He thought back to the news Seamus gave him only hours ago, and he had to leave before he lost his limited composure. Ron only stared as he left.

* * *

Harry found himself standing on the roof of a nearby building a few hours later. Harry couldn't remember how he got up here, or even what building he was on—though he thought it might be a supermarket. He could hear the chatter of people in the street below and cars driving away, but he didn't pay them any attention. He stared at nothing, a beautiful sunset was in clear view, but he was unable to enjoy it.

"Why now?" Harry muttered to himself as he angry wiped a tear away from his eyes before it could fall. "Why now when I needed him so much?"

Harry closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift, wishing for an escape from the situation, but only remembering the moment this all started.

" _Coffee?" Harry asked a gloomy Seamus; someone who wasn't often seen without a smile._

 _Seamus shook his head and smiled at Harry, though the smile seemed forced. "I might grab a peppermint tea if I could."_

 _Harry nodded and approached the counter to order, while Seamus found them a table. When Harry arrived at the table, he noticed how Seamus picked one closer to the back but dismissed the thought after a minute._

" _How's Lavender?" Harry asked, happy to wait until his coffee came for the serious discussion._

" _Good, good," Seamus' eyes darted around the cafe like he wanted to be anywhere but with Harry in that moment._

 _Harry could feel the stone sink into his stomach. He opened his mouth to ask about the results—damn waiting for his coffee—when the girl arrived with their drinks._

" _Small cappuccino?"_

 _Harry smiled at her and she placed the coffee on the table in front of him before turning to Seamus._

" _The peppermint tea must be for you, Doctor Finnegan." The girl seemed to pause for a moment, watching Seamus rub his stomach before her eyes softened. "Sick stomach?" she asked with sympathy._

 _Harry's eyes narrowed when Seamus darted a quick glance in his direction. "Something like that," he muttered almost to himself._

 _The girl pattered Seamus on the back and left not long after. Harry couldn't wait anymore._

" _What's going on?" he asked with a soft voice. "What did it say?"_

 _Seamus stared at the teapot in front of him, carefully pouring some into a small teacup. His hand was shaking. "I'm so sorry, Harry."_

"Harry!"

Harry was pulled from his thoughts with the loud shout and he jumped, accidently bringing himself closer to the edge of the building. He saw Ron running towards him, pale and wide-eyed. He was staring at Harry like he was a wild animal, and Harry realised just what this looked like. He stepped away from the ledge with a weak smile, and Ron relaxed a little, stopping when there was about a meter between them.

"I'm so sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have said what I did, no matter what. You deserve so much better, but when I saw you and Seamus talking and he was holding your hand and you said something about not telling me, I just lost it. I'd already been having a really bad day and it was like the last straw, but I shouldn't have said the things I said, even if you are cheating on me." He paused for a moment to take a breath and then looked at Harry with hurt he wouldn't usually show. "You're not, are you?"

Harry mutely shook his head, staring at Ron with an unsure look. He wanted to go to Ron curl up into his chest. He wanted to tell Ron about his particularly bad day and about what Seamus told him, but the words shouted in anger stopped him.

"I'm really sorry, Harry. I completely understand if you—"

"I don't want to leave you," Harry interrupted, already able to see where Ron was heading. Ron might be as brave as any lion, but his confidence was seriously lacking in the relationship department. He was so quick to think that Harry would leave him when he messed up, forgetting that Harry hadn't ever left, and they'd been friends since they were eleven.

"Why. . ." Ron trailed off and looked away, unsure if he could ask about the coffee with Seamus. Harry's eyes softened and he approached Ron, grabbing his hand and squeezing.

"I had a test done at the hospital a few weeks ago. Remember I've been feeling sick recently and been really tired?"

Ron nodded, instantly concerned, so Harry continued quickly, determined to tell Ron before he chickened out.

"The tests came back positive for a t-tumour in the stomach."

"You mean. . ."

"I have stomach cancer."

They stood in silence together, Ron horrified, and Harry somehow relieved. The hand in Harry's tightened just a moment before Harry was pulled into Ron's arms and held close.

"We'll get through this," he whispered into Harry's hair.

Harry soaked in the comfort and finally let himself cry. He didn't need to tell Ron about the possible treatments just yet, and he knew he would never tell Ron that Seamus suspected his previous neglect could be a contributing factor to the disease. He just held onto Ron as they comforted each other.

The day might have started out with a death sentence, but it ended with hope.

* * *

(w.c 1,394)

WolfWinks-xx-


	17. BartyRegulus

**Title:** No Escape  
 **Summary:** Barty just wants to forget about everything **  
Pairing/Characters:** Barty/Regulus **  
Rating:** T  
 **Warnings** : N/A **  
Notes:** Written for Ancient Runes: Write about a clumsy character

* * *

The floor's stiff under him, and his exposed legs itch where the grass pokes him. He isn't sure where he is, but there's a stale stench to the air that suggests a bar or pub. Barty knows he's outside thanks to the soft breeze that was running through his hair, oh, and the grass. He'd forgotten about the itchy grass.

There's a bottle in his hand. It's empty. He shakes the empty bottle and peers into it again. Nope, still empty.

Standing up—and isn't that a lot harder than it should be—Barty approaches the blurred building in search of another bottle.

He can still think, and therefore he isn't drunk enough.

" _Maybe this is a bad idea."_

" _It's not. Mudbloods shouldn't be able to take over our culture."_

" _My brother would—"_

" _Your brother abandoned you in that house. Why do you care what he would think?"_

" _True, let's go then."_

Barty shakes out the voices and stumbles through the door. The wall's in his way, and the only reason he doesn't blow it to pieces is because his hand's numb. It's barely holding onto the bottle in his hand as it is.

He sets in on the counter and realises it's a little bigger than the beer bottles already littering the counter. In fact, his mouth doesn't taste like beer either. What had he been drinking?

"Dude, did you drink all that by yourself?"

Barty peers at the man who spoke. His black hair reminds Barty painfully of his. . . . _No, no he's gone._ He shakes his head, and the reminder vanishes, especially when he realises that the man is a lot taller than Regulus was. . .had been. Like, a lot taller. Barty leans back on the bar stool he's sitting on— _when did he even sit down?—_ to try and find the head of the tall man and promptly falls off the stool.

 _Well, that doesn't usually happen,_ he thinks as he stares at the now very tall man. In fact, now everything looks tall and his back aches. There's a strange tingling sensation running through his fingers, and Barty wonders if he's regaining feeling in his hands or if limbs are slowly dying.

"Come on, I've got a sobering potion out back. Help me lift him."

" _Help me lift him!"_

" _Why should I? He's a blood traitor!"_

" _He's my brother's best friend! I can't leave him to die!"_

" _Why not?"_

" _I just can't!"_

"Here you go, buddy."

Barty presses his lips together, tightening them against the rim of a potion bottle being placed against them. He will not drink it, he won't. He wants to drown in his . . . you know what, he just wants to drown.

"Come on, you'll feel better."

"Never feel better," Barty moans out, turning away from the bottle and attempting to bat away the hands holding him up. He only succeeds in bashing himself in the face. He groans, the pain echoing around his whole body instead of just his face, and falls limp on whatever he's lying on. It's softer than the grass, so it's probably a bed. _Or a couch, it could be a couch._

The man next to him chuckles. "Are you always this clumsy?"

Barty tries to glare, he really does, but his face isn't working how it should. "Shutap," he slurs instead, hoping the man gets the message that he isn't pleased.

The man doesn't, and Barty considers punching him. He throws the thought away when he realises his arms won't lift up.

"Come on, this will help."

" _I can help end this war."_

" _How?"_

" _I can't tell you, but promise me something?"_

" _You know I'll promise you anything."_

" _D-don't forget me."_

" _Forget you? You're coming back, aren't you?"_

" _I hope so."_

The potion is in his system and the pain is back. His heart is beating too fast, and his head feels like a giant is stomping on it.

"Feel better?"

Barty turned and finally has a good look at the man who brought all the pain back. He's smiling down at Barty, but there's concern in his eyes. "What have you done, you bastard?"

"I was just trying to help. What you did was dangerous. I mean, drinking a whole bottle of elven-made wine can kill you."

"Why do you think I drank it all," Barty hissed, raising his wand and casting. The green light hit the man directly between the eyes, and Barty was surprised to feel a little bit of glee at the frozen look of fear.

"Sorry, Reggie. There's no escape for me."

" _Kreacher has a message for_ _Mister Barty Crouch Junior_ _."_

" _What is it?"_

" _Master Regulus says he is sorry he can't come home."_

" _He's . . . he can't be!"_

" _Master Regulus wants Mister Barty Crouch Junior to escape while he can."_

" _Kreacher, is Regulus. . ."_

" _Yes, Master Regulus is dead."_

* * *

(w.c 819)

WolfWinks-xx-


	18. SusanCormac

**Title:** The First Step  
 **Summary:** Cormac hates how he is lying on a couch unable to do anything. **  
Pairing/Characters:** Susan/Cormac **  
Rating:** K  
 **Warnings** : N/A **  
Notes:** Written for Magical Healing at Hogwarts: Write about someone getting over an injury (physical or emotional). Written for WrenWinterSong in OTP Swap

* * *

The couch was unusually lumpy today. There was nothing unusual about the couch; it was the same as yesterday, and yet it was unusually lumpy. Cormac shifted on the couch, jostling his raised leg and wincing when a pain shot through the nerves.

"Stop moving and it might stop hurting."

Cormac ignored Susan; her voice was unusually irritating today. "This is taking too long," he complained. He knew she would be grinding her teeth together in annoyance at the whinny voice he used, but he didn't care. The white bandages wrapped around his legs showed everyone who he was in a bad mood.

"It wouldn't be taking so long if you just _listened_ to Madam Pomfrey before trying to help in the clean up at Hogwarts."

Cormac glared at the bandages, clenching his hands into the pillow next to him. "You don't know what it's like for me." His voice came out as a growl, startling Susan. He could feel her nervous eyes glancing at him. She didn't care, and he did nothing to soften his voice when he spoke again. "You came out of the war unscathed."

" _Excuse me_ ," Susan hissed in a deadly whisper.

Cormac, startling by the change in temperament, looked up from his leg and stared at Susan. She stood by the door with her own hands clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. Her dark hair seemed to be filled with static, and her eyes were alit in fury. She looked like an angel from Hell.

"Please tell me you _didn't_ just say that."

Cormac gulped, but he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. His own anger took over and he glared right back at her. "What? It's true. You're there standing with barely a scratch on you while I'm here unable to walk for the next two weeks!" His voice grew as his anger did. In some small part of his mind, he knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't control the anger any more than he could control his words.

"I could still lose one leg!" He pushed himself as far up as he could and his glare turned deadly. "I sure as Hell will never run again!"

"At least you're alive!" Susan screamed. "Lavender doesn't have that luxury! Neither does Professor Lupin or Fred or Colin!"

"Maybe I wish I wasn't!"

The words Cormac screamed stilled the room. Susan's skin paled and her legs shook. Her strength seemed to disappear in her shock, making her look like she was about to collapse. s

Cormac felt his own eyes widen. He'd never meant to say that, despite the words being true. He never wanted Susan to know how awful he felt when he woke up every morning when so many of his friends never would.

"Why?" Susan's whisper was a startling contrast to the loud voices only moments ago, and yet that one word seemed to hold more power than any of the words previously screamed.

Cormac hesitated, but seeing tears forming in Susan's eyes, he knew he couldn't avoid the question. The last of his anger drained out of him and he was left with a bone crushing grief.

"I wish the curse that took out my legs had just killed me like it was supposed to. If it had, Colin might still be alive today." Cormac was surprised with how rough his voice was. He found the grief he'd been suppressing ever since the final battle start to emerge, but he desperately pushed it away. He couldn't cry; he wouldn't. What right did he have to cry when he'd just watched as Colin blocked a curse meant for Cormac with his own body?

"It's okay to cry."

Cormac lowered his eyes, surprised to see Susan a lot closer than before. He looked at the roof, closing his eyes to stave off the tears that threatened to spill over.

The couch sunk next to him and a warm body was pressed against his side. She didn't try to hug him, and Cormac was grateful for the choice she was giving him. "I don't know what happened," she whispered, "but I do know that Colin would not want you to live like this."

Cormac shook his head, but before he could even open his mouth, Susan was talking again.

"Lavender died protecting me, and I couldn't protect her."

Cormac's eyes flew open and he stared at Susan. She was looking down, staring at her fiddling fingers.

"I was grabbed by the neck and thrown into a wall. I still have the scars from the scratches. I lost my wand and hit my head against the wall hard. My vision was blurry and uncertain. I was seeing two of everything, but one thing was clear, or two I guess. Yellow eyes and sharp teeth."

Cormac hesitated only a moment before gripping Susan's hand in his. She glanced up and smiled at him, but quickly lowered her head again.

"Greyback smiled at me and opened his mouth. There was no moment of clarity, no peace. I didn't see my life flash before my eyes. All I could think was that I didn't want to die. In the next moment, Greyback was gone and another face was leaning over me; a friendly one this time."

Susan's voice caught and she cleared her throat. Her hands were shaking now, and when she started to speak again, her voice was filled with suppressed tears.

"Lavender smiled at me and touched my check. She said; 'I'm glad you're okay'. Merlin, we barely knew each other, but she was so kind. The next thing I knew, I was covered in blood and watching Greyback tear Lavender's throat apart."

Cormac sucked in a breath. He'd known about Lavender's death; most of the students did. Her body was barely recognisable afterwards. He'd never known that Lavender's fate was almost Susan's.

Shifting in her seat, Susan turned to face Cormac. Her face was wet with tears, but she smiled. "So I don't know what happened between you and Colin, but I know he would want you to live because Lavender wanted me to live."

Cormac could feel a tear slip out, and he wiped it away, but more followed. He wanted to speak, to tell Susan . . . something, anything, but he couldn't.

"It's okay," she whispered, leaning closer but not wrapping her arms around him. "It's okay to cry."

Cormac couldn't hold anything back anymore. He wrapped his arms around Susan's waist, buried his face into her shoulder and cried. Somehow, among all the tears and pain and grief, something inside him healed; something small, but by no means insignificant. For the first time, Cormac was glad he lived.

* * *

(w.c 1,119)

WolfWinks-xx-


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